


Guilt

by Nicola Mody (Vilakins)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Drama, Gen, Post Gauda Prime, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-30
Updated: 2005-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-06 00:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilakins/pseuds/Nicola%20Mody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenna returns to Gauda Prime after the events of <em>Blake</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilt

Jenna always kept the weapons on line till they were well though the blockade even though she'd never had any trouble. Some judicious bribes at the spaceport and a few arms deals with certain prominent members of Gauda Prime society had—so far anyway—given her safe passage. They were clear. She relaxed slightly and sent a brief coded burst to the base to announce her arrival. She frowned when the acknowledgement was from the coordinates of a secondary base. What had forced them to move? She kept her worries to herself, but as soon as the _Deal With It_ was down and docked, she left the crew in charge and took the fastest flyer they had on board.

* * *

  
The new base was, like the previous one, old mining company offices and control rooms, abandoned when the mine was worked out. Deva greeted her, his arm in a healing cast.

"What happened, Deva?"

"We got attacked by Federation troopers who had a tracer on one of the people we brought in. Klyn got the alarm out in time for our people to counterattack." He ushered her out of the flyer silo.

"And Blake?" Alarmed, Jenna grabbed his good arm. "What about Blake?"

"He's fine. He was lucky he was still wearing his armoured vest because he'd just come in from a collection run. Even so, bullets fired at point-blank range'll get though. He's still recovering from having three of them dug out, but—"

"Bullets?" Jenna blinked. "Since when have the Federation used projectile weapons?"

"They don't. It was the Gaudan double-barrelled gun Blake sometimes uses. Arlen got hold of it." He tightened his lips. "She must have shot Klyn too."

"Arlen?"

"The girl Blake brought in. Turned out to be a Federation agent." Deva shook his head. "I kept warning him, but he never listened." He looked grim. "She's lucky she had her neck broken. A lot of the people here would've done a lot worse." He brightened. "You'll never guess who killed her though; at least that's what Blake said. Did you know Vila and Avon were here?"

"They are?" Startled, Jenna stopped and stared at him.

"With their crew, yes. Neither of them is in very good shape though."

"I'll see Blake first," said Jenna. "And you can fill me in on the way."

* * *

  
Blake was in his room, propped up in bed with a datapad and several cubes scattered about on the bedclothes. He looked up and smiled at her, wincing as he reached over to put his pad on the bedside table. "Hello, Jenna."

"It's good to see you're still with us," she said, grinning back. "I bet you're glad you took my advice about the vest."

Blake laughed, and obviously regretted it. "The doctor tells me the extra weight was almost as effective."

"Wouldn't surprise me." Jenna sat down in the only chair; Blake's quarters were as utilitarian as his previous ones. She could see the bandages on his belly beneath his open shirt. "So, who shot you?" she asked coolly.

Blake raised his eyebrows. "A potential recruit I misjudged. Didn't Deva tell you?"

"He did, but come on, Blake. You were shot three times in the front at close range. You expect me to believe you just stood there and let it happen?"

"Something like that." Blake looked away. "I wasn't armed, and I wasn't expecting it."

Jenna folded her arms and leaned back. "You were shot by a native weapon which Avon was holding when Deva came in, and that was before the troopers got there. Deva also said the Federation agent said Avon did it."

"Of course she would, to protect herself. Avon disarmed her."

Ah, that would be when he'd broken her neck. No, that didn't make sense; the woman was still alive when Deva got there. "Not very well, it seems, if he left her with a handgun so she could shoot one of his people" She hadn't known Dayna Mellanby and never would now, but she must have been as good as her father from the reports she'd heard.

"Well, he was a bit distracted." Blake picked up a glass of water and sipped it. "The troopers came in just after that."

Something wasn't right. Blake's remaining eye met hers guilelessly, but he was hiding something. Jenna realised that he hadn't once bitten a finger or gnawed a knuckle since she'd arrived. He was keeping himself rigidly under control. Why? "How are the others?"

"I'm told Avon was fairly badly wounded."

Only told? Jenna stood up and smiled. "Well, I'm just glad it turned out all right. I'll see you later."

* * *

  
Deva, faithful Deva, was still waiting outside. 'I'd like to see my old friends Avon and Vila now," she said. "Blake has no objection." Which he didn't, because she had deliberately not asked.

Deva looked a bit surprised.

"Don't worry," she said, taking a chance. "I won't let on that he's all right."

Visibly relieved, Deva nodded. "They're all recovering from their injuries in one of the old mine infirmary rooms together." He patted his belt. "I have a key."

"They're locked in?" Jenna stared at him.

"Blake said to let him stew." Deva turned down another corridor.

She remembered long conversations with Blake as his memories came back, and kept her voice casual. "Tarrant, you mean?"

"That's right. But if they're all together, he won't know he's suspected."

Jenna frowned. Suspected of what? Collusion with Arwen or whatever her name was?

"Here we are." Deva removed a key from the bunch on his belt and handed it to her. "I've got things to do, so I'll leave you to it."

* * *

  
There were several beds in the room, not all occupied. On the far left one, Vila was curled into the foetal position on top of the covers, facing the wall. Beside him, a young blonde woman sat on a chair, one leg in a cast stretched out in front of her and a crutch propped against the wall behind her. She must be Soolin, the one no one had heard of. A man who could only be the pilot, Tarrant, was sprawled on a bed reading a book-pad, his expression sulky on a still slightly-bruised face. In the far right bed lay Avon, connected to several drips and looking expressionlessly up at the ceiling.

That was odd. The Vila she remembered should have been over there annoying Avon in return for insults, both of them enjoying themselves. "Vila?"

He uncurled enough to look at her, and his eyes widened. "Jenna!"

"So he does speak," said Avon.

"Shut up," Soolin said venomously.

Vila pushed himself into a sitting position. "Is it really you? He said you were dead."

"Who did?"

"Tarrant."

"_Blake_ said she was dead," Tarrant put his book down and gave Jenna a wide and insincere smile.

"Well, he would." Jenna kicked a chair against the wall and sat down where she could see them all. "Why should he give information about his allies to someone he didn't trust?" She crossed her legs and put one hand on her gun. "Especially someone called Tarrant?"

"What d'you mean?" Tarrant said warily.

"Blake told me a while back me about the man who infiltrated his group and got them all massacred. Dev Tarrant, he was called. That's very close to your name, isn't it? Hardly a coincidence, I'd have thought."

Tarrant flushed angrily. "He's my uncle but I'm nothing like him, the sneaky tattle-tale."

Jenna regarded him thoughtfully. His anger looked genuine, and, by his choice of words, almost certainly going back to childhood. "Tell me," she said softly, "when exactly did you leave Space Fleet?"

"I knew it," said Vila.

"I was in Space Fleet, yes." Tarrant slid his legs, somewhat stiffly, over the edge of his bed. "But I deserted; they all know that." He smiled brightly. "I never hid it."

He'd turned the charm back on. Jenna looked at Vila. "_What_ did you know, Vila?"

He hunched his shoulders, looking wary. "I dunno, just a feeling."

"A feeling. And he wonders why no one listens to him." Avon spoke evenly but the contempt was almost palpable.

Stung, Vila sat up straighter. "He knew what Blake looked like when he came on board and you know they don't publish rebels' photos so they can't be poster heroes. He was pretty keen on finding Blake for someone who'd never met him. And for a mercenary, he was hopeless when we were after those ore ships of Servalan's." He looked defiant. "A pilot that good doesn't make stupid mistakes like that. And he spent a lot of time on Sardos with Servalan. And what about Virn—"

"All right, Vila." Tarrant kept the smile on his face. "I thought you liked me."

"I do. Trusting isn't the same thing though, is it?"

"But I saved all your lives, and more than once!"

"I know. That's why it didn't make sense." Vila slumped, his brief flash of spirit gone.

"Oh, but it does," the woman, Soolin, said coolly. "If he was looking for Blake, he'd need to keep the people who knew him alive."

"That wasn't it!" Tarrant was shocked, but Jenna wasn't certain whether it was at the accusation or his own involuntary reaction.

"Then tell me." Jenna wished she could rely on someone she knew, but Vila wasn't the resilient and cheerful man she remembered, and Avon had barely spoken. "Where's Cally by the way?"

"She died." Vila face screwed up in sudden pain and he curled up on his bed again, but this time facing the room. "Couldn't save them both. Or Dayna."

Soolin placed her hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps no one could have."

Jenna raised her eyebrows at her. She hadn't picked Soolin as a particularly sympathetic type.

"He's a good man," said Soolin, her expression faintly mocking. "I haven't met many of those."

"No. They aren't that common." Jenna turned her attention back to Tarrant. "Now, I suggest you tell the truth. After all, you do have to share a locked room with these people."

Tarrant sighed. "All right." He nodded at Vila. "He's right. I _was_ assigned to take over the ship and deliver it and Blake to Space Command. But Blake wasn't on board and, well, I didn't plan on getting to like the crew. But I did." He leaned forward. "In the fleet, we look after our own, you see. I didn't know what to expect from rebels, but it certainly wasn't what I found. You were my friends and my crewmates." He spread his hands. "Once I got to know you all, I couldn't just turn you in." He looked at Jenna. "To answer your question, I stopped considering myself under orders from Servalan after she got my brother killed—"

"Not when you got dumped on Kairos with us?" Vila was sitting up and taking notice again.

"Jarvik was supposed to bring me back."

"Is that what she told you on Sardos? Or was it Virn?" Avon asked. "And if you believed that, you're more stupid than I thought."

"I did at the time. I suppose I wanted to." Tarrant sighed. "Yes, looking back, it was probably a lie. Anyway," he said to Jenna, "as far as I'm concerned, I left Space Fleet and the Federation for good when I saw what they did on Helotrix. Nothing justifies that."

"No." Jenna had heard about the place they first tested Pylene-50. "The end rarely does. All right, so you looked after your crewmates because you liked them."

"It's true!" said Vila, looking slightly more cheerful. "He even stayed with _Scorpio_ all the way down so we could teleport off."

Jenna kept her eyes on Tarrant. "Very loyal. That didn't apply to Blake, though, did it?"

He shrugged. "I'd never met the man; what did I know?"

In a flash, Jenna was across the room with her gun pressed under Tarrant's jaw. "So it was all right to kill him, then?"

Tarrant froze. "I didn't."

"Don't!" Vila begged. "Please don't hurt him, there's been enough of that."

Jenna kept her gun in place. "Even though he shot Blake?"

"He didn't!"

"In effect, he did," said Soolin. "Telling Avon he'd betrayed him was a sentence of death."

Jenna slowly straightened up and looked at Avon. He gave them all a dazzling and not quite sane smile. "How could you believe that?" she asked, stunned. "Any of you."

"Easy enough," Vila muttered. "Everyone else did the dirty on us."

She turned to him. "Vila! You always liked Blake, and he liked you!"

"Wasn't the Blake I remembered though," Vila said resentfully. "How could I tell, anyway? He didn't even look at us. Just Avon, as if he was the only one who ever mattered."

Jenna went still as several things dropped into place. She closed her eyes briefly, hoping it wasn't true, then strode over to Avon's bed. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you."

"I can't think of one. Go ahead." His eyes met hers calmly.

"No!" Vila pleaded behind her. "No more killing."

"Do your own dirty work, Avon." Jenna's lip curled as shoved her gun back in its holster. She went back to Vila. "All right. Tell me what happened. From the beginning."

Vila looked nervous.

"Don't worry, Vila," said Soolin. "He can't even walk."

Since when was Vila afraid of Avon? Jenna pulled her chair over to his bed and sat down. "Why did you come here?" she asked quietly.

"To find Blake." Vila sighed and pushed himself upright again, wincing. "We'd lost almost everything and like I said before, it seemed like everyone we met betrayed us. Blake was our last chance. Orac said he was a bounty-hunter but I didn't believe it." He looked miserable. "But when Tarrant said that he'd betrayed us too, well, it sounded so..."

"Would you have shot him, Vila?"

"Course not!" Vila was horrified. "He was _Blake_! I mean, when I heard Avon'd found him, I thought everything'd be all right again, just like it used to be."

Jenna remembered Vila in the holding cells, friendly, kind, and cheerful. He'd been the best of an admittedly bad lot, till she'd met Blake. Funny that she'd almost forgotten him after that. "People change, Vila," she said sadly. "Some more than others." She stood up. "Look, I have to go now, but I'll be right back."

* * *

  
She paused outside Blake's room to calm herself. She might be wrong. She should give him a chance. She pushed the door open.

"Hello Jenna." Blake put his datapad aside. "You look serious. Come and sit down."

Jenna remained standing. "I've just been to see Avon and Vila."

"You _what_!" Blake jerked upright and several datacubes fell to the floor. "I didn't say you could!"

Jenna folded her arms. "And since when did I need permission to talk to old friends? Especially when one of them saved your life."

Blake relaxed slightly but noticeably. "Vila isn't speaking, I hear, and Avon doesn't say much. It can't have been a very chatty reunion."

"On the contrary. They all talked to me." Jenna paused. "They told me what happened, Blake. Why did you lie?"

Blake's eye narrowed. "About what?"

"It was Avon that shot you. Why are you protecting him?"

"Ah." Blake sighed. "All right. Yes, he shot me. Tarrant got the wrong impression and Avon... over-reacted."

"I gathered that much."

"Look, Jenna, you know what I'm doing here, looking for recruits like my first convict group." He smiled. "My best."

Jenna didn't return his smile.

"We need Avon and his expertise, and Orac if he has it. If no one knows what he did, they'll accept him and work with him."

"And you could, after he tried to kill you?"

"Why not? The doctor says they all show signs of having been under a lot of pressure, especially Avon and Vila. Avon made a mistake."

"Three of them," Jenna said dryly. "What makes you think he'll work with _you_?"

Blake smiled slowly. "Guilt and the need to assuage it is a powerful incentive, Jenna."

She drew in her breath; so it was true. "That's why you wouldn't tell them you were all right? Playing it to the hilt? Nice basis for a relationship."

"Oh, come on, Jenna. Do you really expect me to waste a valuable resource like Avon?"

_Resource?_ Jenna couldn't speak for a moment. She tried to hide her outrage. "What about the others?"

"I don't know what to do with them yet. I don't trust Tarrant, I have no idea what the woman's background is, and if Vila's as damaged as they seem to think, I suppose I could find him something useful to do in the kitchen or somewhere."

"I'm glad you have his welfare at heart." Jenna forced herself to speak calmly, "Did you know that Cally was dead?"

"No. I'm sorry to hear that."

He'd hardly even changed his expression; Jenna glared at him. "You don't sound very upset."

"I've seen enough people die, especially since the invasion, Jenna. We both have." Blake shrugged. "Cally chose to be a rebel; she knew the risks."

"That isn't what you said when you went back for her that time." And against everyone else's wishes, too. When had he changed? Where was the man who had agonised over Gan's death?

"I've come to realise that our goal is more important than any individual, Jenna. Including me."

Jenna bent down to pick up the spilled datacubes to hide her anger at both Blake and herself. She should have seen how obsessed he'd become by Star One, and how his treatment on Jevron had hardened him. An eye and a tooth they'd extracted from him, citing the crimes he'd been accused of on Earth, and she'd barely got there in time to save him from being burned alive. He'd been colder and harder since then, even though she'd tried not to see it.

She carefully put the cubes on the bedside table and sat down, taking her time so that she could compose herself. "Did I ever tell you about my mother?" she said conversationally.

"No. You never did."

"She was a dissident. Not a member of your Freedom Party or any other organisation as far as I know, but she always spoke her mind. She was very critical of the regime, local authorities, politicians." Jenna laughed without humour. "You name it. I used to hear my father yelling at her after I'd gone to bed, telling her how dangerous it was. She used to say she wasn't going to hide what she thought, that people had a right to say what they thought—"

"Quite right."

"—and if he didn't like the way she was, he could just leave. So one day he did. I was about five. I never saw him again."

"So this is why you became a rebel?"

"No, Blake. Quite the opposite. I hated her for caring more about her ideals than her family. She knew it could get me and my father killed too, or sold into slavery, but she didn't stop." Jenna closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. "Eventually I joined the Merchant Fleet and got away from Earth, but one day they came for her. She must have had some warning because she got a message through to me. Just one word. Run. So I did." Just one word. No "I love you." Not even "Mum" because it was obvious from the sender code that it was from her. "I took a shuttle and went free-trading."

"She was a brave woman. Like you."

"If that's what caring more about ideas than people is." Jenna shook her head, remembering the image snatched from her mind when they'd boarded the _Liberator_ for the first time. "I don't know what they did to her, whether it was torture, slavery, mind-wipe, or whether she was just put up against a wall and shot. I had nightmares for years." Her voice broke and she clenched her fists to keep the tears away. " I hated her for putting me in the same danger, and hated myself for not forgiving her after that warning."

Until she'd seen that image and she'd started forward to help her, and realised at last that underneath all the anger she had cared after all, and that was what mattered, not whether her mother had loved her or not. She had been liberated from a burden of guilt, and Zen had taken the word from her mind.

"Blake," she said, more gently. "What have you won if all you care about is your cause, and not the people you're doing it for? Do you even _remember_ them, or is it just pride now?"

"Jenna—"

"You know why I followed you? Because you cared about people. I could see it when you looked at them on the London, and when you gave yourself up to save some criminals you didn't even know that well, I knew I'd found someone to believe in. I was right too, but you've changed."

"Everyone does."

There was nothing more to say; Jenna stood up. She paused, her hand on the door and her back to him. "My crew will unload the equipment I've brought for you. I'm not sure whether there'll be another shipment."

She left.

* * *

  
She went straight back to the infirmary and unlocked the door. "Right. I've got a flyer in the silo that seats four, and a ship called the _Deal With It_ which is leaving tonight. I trade around the non-Federated worlds, and we occasionally do a spot of—" she nodded at Vila "—smuggling. I could do with someone who could check we're not inadvertently carrying something we'd rather not."

"Me?" Vila's face lit up. "Me and my fingers?"

"That's right." Jenna found herself smiling at him. She didn't know what had happened to him since she'd left, but she was glad it hadn't destroyed him.

Vila's eyes flicked towards Soolin.

"What do you do?" Jenna asked her.

"Oh, I'm a professional like Vila, but I'm in the protection side."

Jenna nodded. "Useful. All right."

"What about Tarrant?" said Vila.

"Oh, I can always find room for a good pilot who gives a damn about his crewmates."

Tarrant grinned and jumped to his feet.

"And Avon?" Vila looked worried.

"Just the walking wounded." Jenna looked over at Avon, who looked back at her bleakly. She considered him for a moment. "Blake survived, you know."

"Blake? He's alive?" Avon's face changed and something less dark lit in his eyes.

"Oh, yes. He's recovering well. I'd hate to deprive you of each other's company. And besides, you deserve each other."

She grinned at the hopeful little group by the door, feeling better than she had for a long time.

"Let's go."

The end


End file.
